Music / Calm, Sandra France (with Tanya Boag and Gabriel Fromhyr). At Tuggeranong Arts Centre, October 23. Reviewed by SARAH BYRNE.

There is a Shakespearean quote for every conceivable person or situation, and for composer and pianist Sandra France, it is from Enobarbus in Antony & Cleopatra.

“Custom cannot stale her infinite variety”, indeed. No matter how often you’ve heard her perform – and she’s been based in Canberra for years – she has endless new ways to impress and entertain across diverse musical genres. Her concert Calm traversed styles from baroque through impressionism and jazz in a program made up principally of her own work.

Her first offering was the three-movement Lanyon Suite, her 2016 work commissioned for the piano in the Lanyon Homestead. The vivacious Routines of a Busy Household, eclectic treble scraps of melody settling into a pleasing rhythm with a Debussy touch, gave way to the Echoes of a Musical Evening, in which a Satie-inspired melody runs through glimpses of singalongs of yore (plus a hornpipe!). The third movement, The Murrumbidgee After Rain, perfectly evoked that rolling river with repeated lyrical arpeggios swelling and retreating for a sensation of peace.

Next was the only non-France composition of the evening – though her arrangement of Charlie Parker’s Moose the Mooch was wholly original in its own way. Described as a classical interpretation, it still gave plenty of jazz, with an overall effect closer perhaps to impressionism; sprightly and entertaining.

France then introduced cellist Gabriel Fromhyr for her solo cello composition Fluctuating States of Calm, originally written in 1999 for celebrated Canberra musician David Pereira. Austere and atonal, depicting an interrupted meditation, the piece is challenging, requiring a variety of techniques, and was well performed by the stoic Fromhyr, who calmly resolved a mid-piece hardware issue without missing a step.

The main event, the premiere of France’s new composition The Hardening of A Beautiful Soul was performed by her, solo on piano. Composed in response to the impact of antisemitic activity, the initial state of the soul is evoked by romantic opening runs of melody, receding into turbulence before the melody remerges, although not quite as it was. A frenetic bassline and agitated treble depict escalating anxiety before resolving into a state of resignation; finishing on an apparently calm note that is somehow more disturbing than the storm preceding it. This is an effective and descriptive work, which I am sure will rapidly find a wider audience.

Fromhyr then returned, joined by violinist Tanya Boag, for France’s 2001 suite, Three Miniatures for Piano Trio. The first, Stravinsky’s Book, was just as abstract as might be expected from the eponymous composer, with the string players often using the back of their bow for percussive effects at times reminiscent of birds.

This was followed by Playing in the Shadows, a dark piece with a shade of Phantom about it, and a novel adaptation of the Bill Frisell technique of plucking the piano strings, sometimes even plucking with one hand and striking keys with the other. The final movement, You’re Sitting on My Thoughts, served up all of the anxiety of my long-gone exam days, perhaps heightened by the time of year, or by a hint of Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd? France’s virtuosity was apparent, but credit must also be given to Boag and Fromholz, who performed this new, complicated and challenging material beautifully.

The evening closer was another premiere, One Word, originally composed by France for choir, but here reimagined for trio. This was a lovely, lilting thing, perhaps a little Irish, and – appropriately – the calmest piece of the evening, violin and cello conversing amiably. A very nice note with which to leave us.